Hidden in Plain Sight
by elbcw
Summary: 'The suddenness of the attack took all of them by surprise. Neither Aramis or Porthos had time to draw their guns before they were being forced into sword fights. Aramis had to scramble up to face his opponent whilst Porthos was pushed back a few steps, such was the ferocity of the man he was facing. Athos had no weapons. His belt lay discarded sitting several feet away.'
1. Chapter 1

Hidden in Plain Sight

Chapter One

D'Artagnan glanced back towards the camp, he could not see where the others were setting up for the night. The area they had picked could only be reached from one side, but a thicket of trees would hide anyone approaching so they would have to take it in turns to act as a sentry. It was d'Artagnan's turn to watch first. He had been quite pleased as he at least would get a good nights sleep, but he would not get any hot food. By the time he was relieved by Aramis the food that was being prepared would be cold.

He went back to his slow walk back and forth across the rough pathway. He kicked a few stones out of the way as he did so. They were on their way back from a meeting with a few Spanish informants which had not given them any new information. The trip had been a waste of time, but, as Athos had pointed out they were not to have known that when they had set out four days before.

They would be back in Paris by noon the following day, after a leisurely ride the following morning. If they had pushed the horses they probably would have reached the garrison before nightfall, but they were all of the opinion that as they had no intelligence there was no point in tiring the horses unnecessarily.

A noise to this left drew his attention. D'Artagnan turned towards the noise when it happened again. He took a couple of steps forward but could not see anything that could have been responsible. As he turned back to his previous direction he found himself facing a mean looking man who smiled briefly. D'Artagnan opened his mouth to speak but was not given the chance as an arm encircled his neck and squeezed.

His vision swam, greyness creeping in. There was nothing he could do to warn his brothers of the impending danger as he sank into unconsciousness.

MMMM

'Have you been taking lessons from Constance?' asked Porthos as he peered over Aramis shoulder.

'Are you trying to say that when I sew you up I am not as neat as this?'

Athos huffed a laugh as he tended to their meal, poking the campfire with a piece of wood before throwing it on. Aramis had noticed the loose seam on Athos' doublet and offered to repair it. The swordsman was only too happy to let their field medic fix his jacket. The damage was too little to warrant getting it fixed professionally but he knew the loose seam could get worse if he left it.

Aramis was sat, cross-legged, a few feet from the campfire, needle and thread in hand nimbly fixing the issue while Porthos continued to mock his work good-naturedly.

The suddenness of the attack took all of them by surprise. Three men rushed at them from the thicket. Neither Aramis or Porthos had time to draw their guns before they were being forced into sword fights. Aramis had to scramble up to face his opponent whilst Porthos was pushed back a few steps, such was the ferocity of the man he was facing.

Athos had no weapons. His belt lay discarded where Aramis had been sitting several feet away. The man took full advantage as Athos managed to gain his footing. He thrust forward with his sword forcing Athos to step to the side. The sword sliced across Athos' arm as the man pulled the weapon back towards him. Athos realised he had no choice but to be offensive with the man, he had nothing with which to defend himself. As the man prepared for another strike by swinging his sword arm out to the side Athos rushed forwards and bodily threw the man backwards. The man fell over the campfire, Athos landed on top of him, rolling off quickly. The man did not move, as he had landed his head hit one of the rocks the musketeers had used to surround the fire. The attacker died instantly. Athos pulled the body from the flames before it could catch fire.

MMMM

Aramis had managed to knock the first strike of his attacker's swords aside without injuring himself. He pulled his own sword loose of his belt and thrust forward. The man managed to parry the first attack but clearly was not expecting Aramis to have more than one weapon, his main gauche was quickly employed to finish the man off, pushed deeply into the man's chest. The attacker collapsed to the floor, blood bubbling from his mouth as he took his last rattled breaths.

Looking around Aramis saw that Porthos was injured but still moving easily, a lucky sword strike had sliced him across the side. Porthos, not impressed with being injured had used his fist to knock the attacker backwards into a tree. The man was unconscious, sprawled on the floor. Porthos was already making use of the attacker's own belt to restrain him.

Athos appeared a little shocked by the outcome of his fight. The swordsman had been injured, his shirt bloody from cuts to his arm. He was sat by the campfire holding his arm and looking a little lost. Aramis crossed the few feet between them and knelt beside his friend.

'You OK?'

'Yes, sorry, that rather threw me for a moment,' said Athos, showing an unusual vulnerability. Aramis knew the man would quickly shake off the shock.

'It's not every day an unarmed man gets to beat a man with a sword and come off quite so lightly…let me have a look.'

Athos allowed Aramis to push up the sleeve of his shirt. Two wounds crossed his forearm, both were deep.

'They'll need stitching. Your doublet may have to go to the bottom of the list of work I have to do tonight.'

'He alright?' asked Porthos as he wandered over.

'Needs stitches, but otherwise fine…you?'

'Cut to me side, might need your attention as well. But I can wait for now. What about d'Artagnan?'

MMMM

All three men looked around, there was no sign of the fourth member of their little group. The fight had not been quiet. Porthos knew something must have happened.

'Go and look for him,' said Athos, 'I will watch our captive, I would like to ask him a few questions when he wakes up.'

Aramis grabbed his medical bag and pulled out a bandage, Athos allowed him to wrap the bandage around his arm before rising to join Porthos.

'Does that need dressing?' asked Aramis indicating the wound to Porthos' side.

'It'll be alright for a few minutes,' replied Porthos as he batted Aramis' searching hand away, 'let's find d'Artagnan first.'

Porthos led them through the thicket. As they reached the far side they saw the young musketeer sprawled across the rough road. Aramis hurried across to him. The man was lying on his front, unconscious, there was no obvious injury, so Aramis gently pulled him over onto his back. Even in the fading light, they could see the bruising that was beginning to form on their friend's neck.

MMMM

Athos watched his friends leave the camp to search for d'Artagnan. He hoped they would find the young man quickly, d'Artagnan would not have allowed the attackers passed without a fight.

The man Porthos had knocked out moaned. Athos turned his full attention to the restrained man. He raised his gun and pointed it at him.

The man was his age, with sandy coloured hair. His pale complexion showed the bruise Porthos had given him starkly across his cheek.

When the man focused on the gun pointed at him Athos spoke, 'what do you want from us?'

The man said nothing, but a smile played across his lips. Athos narrowed his eyes and stepped forward crouching down. He pushed the barrel of the gun into the man's chest firmly enough to cause the man to wince.

'What do you want from us?'

Athos moved the gun to point at the man's thigh, pressing it downwards.

'I can shoot you in many places without killing you,' said Athos, retaining the same calm tone of voice. The man glanced down at the position of the gun, his lip quivered.

'You'll be too late,' the man said, 'you won't get there in time.'

'Get where?'

MMMM

'He's breathing, he should be fine…probably just have a headache and a croaky voice,' said Aramis as he finished searching for injuries on their unconscious brother.

Porthos was looking around him, his brow furrowed, Aramis watching him wondering what he was looking for.

'His pauldron and cloak…he 'ad them when he came out here.'

Aramis glanced around, the items of uniform were nowhere to be seen. Whoever had attacked d'Artagnan had stripped him of his uniform. None of the three men who attacked the camp were sporting the Musketeers missing clothing. Why would their attackers take the uniform?

'D'Artagnan…wake up,' said Aramis when the young man moaned quietly and moved slightly.

Porthos crouched down beside them looking at d'Artagnan with concern. The musketeer's breathing was ragged. He blinked his eyes a few times but did not seem able to focus.

'Don't try to speak…we are all OK,' said Aramis trying to think ahead to the questions the injured man would have.

'Speak for yourself,' grunted Porthos.

Aramis shook his head, 'we are mostly OK. A couple of minor injuries. You were obviously taken by surprise. This is not your fault.'

D'Artagnan managed a small nod, as his eyes managed to focus on the marksman.

'Let's get you up, and back to Athos. See if he's left our captive alive.'

Aramis hooked his arm behind the younger man's shoulders and pulled him up to sit. With Porthos' help, they hauled d'Artagnan to his feet steadying him for a few seconds when he paled slightly. D'Artagnan nodded, Porthos let him go and began to walk back towards the camp. Aramis released him as d'Artagnan started walking forward but remained close by. It was clear the young musketeer was suffering after his misadventure. His gait was slightly wobbly, and he veered to the left on one occasion causing Aramis to take a couple of steps forward and pull the man back onto the path.

As they neared the camp they heard Athos calling them back. They sped up, as much as d'Artagnan could, to join Athos and their captive.

MMMM

'We have a problem,' said Athos as they approached him.

The sandy-haired man sitting at Athos feet looked dishevelled, Porthos guessed Athos had been a little persuasive with his interrogation. The field bandage on his arm was stained where he had used the injured arm more than he should have done. The fact the Athos had not enquired about d'Artagnan's health was a worry. Whatever the problem was had to be a serious one. One that was more important than any of them.

'You're friend, it's his fault. You should have put someone who knows what they are doing on sentry duty.'

Athos, who had stood up when the others appeared kicked the man in the leg, eliciting a hiss of pain. Porthos looked at Athos who imperceptibly glanced at d'Artagnan.

'Taken by surprise, they would have taken any of us out. Grabbed 'im from behind. Cowardly.'

Porthos aimed the last word at the smirking captive who had recovered from the kick to the leg.

The captive spoke again, 'well he isn't a brute like you is he, you could have prevented yourself from being throttled. He went down far too easy for a soldier. No wonder he was easy.'

'Have you got everythin' you're gonna get from 'im?'

Athos nodded. Porthos stepped forward and crouched down in one swift movement punching the captive hard across the face. The man slumped backwards.

Porthos turned back to d'Artagnan who was looking down, 'ignore him, there were three of them and only one of you. It was unfortunate you didn't get a chance to warn us, but getting grabbed from behind and throttled ain't particularly easy to get out of.'

D'Artagnan nodded, but still looked guilty.

'What did he tell you?' asked Aramis as he pushed d'Artagnan towards the campfire and forced the man to sit down.

'After they attacked d'Artagnan they took his uniform?'

They nodded.

'There were four of them, the fourth is on his way to Paris masquerading as a Musketeer. They intend for the man to infiltrate the Palace and kill the King.'

'We have to get back to Paris,' said Porthos, 'there's too many newly commissioned men, a stranger won't be noticed if he's in uniform.'

'You can't ride until I've seen to that wound on your side, I've seen you wincing and trying to hide how bad it is,' said Aramis shaking his head, 'and d'Artagnan won't get more than a few yards on a horse for a few hours…don't speak,' continued Aramis holding up his hand when the younger man tried to protest.

'Aramis is right,' said Athos as he looked over both Porthos and d'Artagnan before holding up his bleeding arm, 'Aramis you have to go.'

MMMM

Athos had quickly realised that Aramis was the only one of the four of them capable of returning to Paris at pace. The need to protect the King was more important than their injuries. He also knew he would have to practically order their field medic to leave them. Aramis was loyal to the King, but his friends were in front of him, injured.

'Leave your medical kit, we will sort ourselves out and follow you as soon as we can at a pace conducive to d'Artagnan's injury.'

Athos could see how torn Aramis was, but he was a soldier and after only a few moments further indecision he nodded.

'You're right…d'Artagnan should be fine, but he probably has an aching head and don't let him speak though, seriously you need to stay quiet,' said Aramis with a stern look at d'Artagnan, 'I think, Athos you need to see to Porthos before you get your arm looked at.'

'It's not that bad,' complained Porthos.

'Yes, it is, you have never been able to hide pain. You are hurting and bleeding. Just accept that I can see through your charade.'

Athos was mildly amused when Porthos had the sense to look contrite at his telling off.

'Get to the Palace, find the King. Stay with him. Try to get word to Treville, but if you cannot, stay with the King, do not let him wander around. He will be safer staying in one place. He will complain, but force him to stay in one room if you must. I will sort out any repercussions he has for your actions. The man who is trying to kill the King won't know his way around the Palace, and hopefully won't know any shortcuts through the city. But he does have a head start on you.'

Aramis nodded as he crossed the campsite to his horse, he mounted up and with a last look at his injured comrades pushed the beast forward and out of sight.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

'This weren't your fault.'

'I know, but if I had, even shouted out, you might not both be injured, and Aramis wouldn't be riding back to Paris alone,' said d'Artagnan quietly.

'Porthos is right, you were attacked, by surprise, by four men. None of us could have won against those odds.'

'The King is probably dead already, we have too much of a head start on you, don't see why you bothered sending a man to Paris. He won't be there in time.'

They all glared at the captive man who was now sat tied to a tree. Athos grabbed a spare bandage and walked over to the man who struggled against him. When Athos returned to sit by the fire the man was gagged and looked quite put out.

'Are you ready?' asked Athos as he picked up the needle.

Porthos nodded and leaned back to allow Athos to stitch the wound on his side. D'Artagnan nodded to Athos that he was ready and tightened his grip around his friend's arms. Porthos was notoriously bad at behaving when he received stitches, but they could not afford to knock him out. They needed him able to ride a horse once their medical needs had been dealt with. Porthos stiffened as the needle was pushed through his skin. Athos glanced up to see the man had screwed his eyes shut and was gritting his teeth against the pain.

By the time Athos had finished Porthos was sweating and on the verge of passing out. When d'Artagnan released him Porthos nearly crashed to the ground.

'Sorry,' whispered d'Artagnan as he grabbed the man and guided him back to lie down.

'No talking,' said Athos, 'Aramis was quite insistent. Porthos stay there for a few minutes, d'Artagnan can deal with me.'

Porthos nodded and remained where he was, panting slightly as he worked through the pain and composed himself a little. D'Artagnan left a water skin by him.

Athos quickly pulled the bandage from his arm and cleaned the wounds. He hissed in pain as he poured alcohol over his arm.

'The sooner we can get this done the sooner we can be on the road.'

'But Aramis would not appreciate us rushing the job,' Porthos managed to say as he sat himself up with a wince.

Athos watched as d'Artagnan readied another needle and thread. He watched as the needle was pushed through his skin, tensing up as it did so. He did not notice Porthos slowly moving around to sit behind him. The big musketeer slipped his arm around Athos' waist and pinned his uninjured arm to his side. D'Artagnan continued stitching. Athos knew he was close to passing out, but like Porthos fought against the feeling. But he felt light-headed by the time d'Artagnan cut the final stitch and wrapped a clean bandage around his forearm.

When he tried to stand he found Porthos forcing him to stay put.

'Now it's your turn to take a minute. You'll be no good to us if you start rushing around and pass out. Sit there for a few minutes. When you stop feelin' dizzy you can help us pack up.'

Athos nodded, he knew Porthos was correct. Much as he wanted to get on the road and follow Aramis there would be no point if one of them keeled over in the process. He watched as a pale d'Artagnan carefully repacked Aramis' medical kit away and tucked it into his saddlebag. Porthos had collected the rest of Aramis' gear, left in their friend's hasty departure. Porthos was moving quite gingerly, but he was up and moving which was as much as they could ask of the injured man. Of the three of them, Athos realised he was the one with the least injury, at least he was until d'Artagnan could shake off the headache and occasional dizzy spells he was obviously suffering from.

When they got back to the Palace, Athos would not be able to rely on either man in a fight with the assassin. But with luck, the assassin would have been dealt with by then.

MMMM

Aramis knew he could make the Palace in three hours, provided he paced the horse well. He intended to keep her moving at a steady pace for a couple of hours then allow her a drink at a lake they would pass before carrying on as fast as he could push her.

The situation was not ideal. With all three of his friends injured he knew he was the only one who could take on the current task. But at the time he wanted to look after their injuries. He knew that each of his friends were perfectly capable of sewing a wound or dealing with other simple injuries, but it did not stop him worrying.

Porthos would no doubt have complained about the stitches being put in, the man was quite pathetic when it came to dealing with pain. Athos would likely try to carry on as if he had not been injured, the cuts to his arm were not too bad but would cause him pain and discomfort. And d'Artagnan would probably be trying to talk and make the recovery to his voice take twice as long.

But, thought Aramis, his focus should be on the assassin, and the King. The idea of someone masquerading as a Musketeer and simply walking into the Palace unquestioned was a worrisome one. There had recently been several new Musketeers commissioned. Most of the longer standing members of the garrison would be recognised. But knowing that there would be new faces around, the people at the Palace would not question a uniformed soldier walking through. Only another Musketeer would know that the man was not one of their own. But the Musketeers currently at the Palace did not know to watch out for an infiltrator.

The quicker Aramis reached Paris, the better.

MMMM

'What are we going to do about him?' asked d'Artagnan, his voice still no more than a hoarse whisper.

'He'll 'ave to ride with one of us, my horse can manage two. Question is, do we want him conscious or not?'

D'Artagnan looked over at the sandy-haired man, who was out of earshot, but was watching them intently as they made their final preparations.

'We will leave him,' said Athos, 'we do not have the time. Once we are back at the Palace we can send someone to collect him, he will only be alone for a few hours. It is a risk I am prepared to take.'

Porthos nodded, 'don't tell 'im though.'

Athos sighed as he looked at Porthos, who was grinning, d'Artagnan could not help a smirk himself.

Porthos looked up at the saddle of his horse, d'Artagnan realised his problem and tapped him on the shoulder indicating he would give him a hand up.

'Not sure I like you quiet,' said Porthos as he allowed himself to be helped up onto the back of his horse. D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders with a smile.

He crossed to Athos who was waiting for assistance, 'thank you,' he said when he had settled himself, 'you need to dictate the pace. I do not want you falling from your horse by allowing us to travel too fast, neither of us is in much shape to help you back up at the moment.'

D'Artagnan nodded, he had no intention of jeopardising their journey. They were all worried about Aramis, even though they knew he would not be alone when he reached the Palace there was still the chance that something could happen to him on the journey. The would-be assassin might lay in wait for him or recognise him at the palace and attack him before he had the chance to warn anyone of the danger.

'You could leave me,' suggested d'Artagnan.

He shrugged his shoulders again when both Athos and Porthos glared at him.

MMMM

Aramis dismounted and rushed towards the Palace. As he neared the closest entrance he saw Treville looking at him quizzically.

'There an assassin, coming here. He might already be here, he stole d'Artagnan's uniform, he'll look like a Musketeer.'

Treville took the information in quickly, he turned to the two Musketeers guarding the door.

'Pierre, get back to the garrison, muster every man you can find, bring them back here to start a search,' said Treville.

Pierre nodded and ran towards the stables to carry out his orders. Treville turned to the other waiting man.

'Barbotin, find the Red Guard captain, update him with what has happened, they are to search the grounds. Try to instil in him that I would rather he did not shoot every Musketeer he sees and tell us later that he thought it was the assassin. Stay with them, you know the newly commissioned men.'

Barbotin nodded and ran in the opposite direction, collecting two more Musketeers as he went.

'Where is the King?' asked Aramis as he fell into step beside Treville who was walking with urgency through the Palace.

'Probably still in his chambers…he will not be pleased to be disturbed so early. But his safety is paramount.'

They ascended to the first floor of the Palace and made their way to the King's private apartment. Treville nodded at the two men on the door who stood aside to allow him and Aramis to pass. Treville pushed the door open and entered the Kings chamber.

'I did not call for anyone,' snapped the King from across the room. He was stood at the window looking out.

'Sire, your life is in danger. There is an assassin.'

'There are assassin's everyday Treville, what makes this one different?'

The King turned and looked at them, both men bowed respectfully.

'This one is dressed as a Musketeer, Majesty, he may be able to enter the Palace unnoticed.'

The King's amused expression turned to one of annoyance, 'how was this allowed to happen?'

Treville did not have an answer to the question, the King looked to Aramis, who after a brief nod from Treville answered.

'We were attacked, Sire, d'Artagnan's uniform was taken from him. One of the attackers told us of the plan. I was sent to warn you.'

'You were attacked? You are supposed to be the best soldiers. You are my Musketeers.'

Aramis did not respond, he knew it was not his place to do so, despite wishing to tell the King exactly what he thought of the man.

'We will increase the guard, Sire. I insist on one of the longer serving Musketeers being at your side until we have caught the assassin. The longer serving men will recognise the assassin.'

'So, I am to be protected by the very people who allowed me to be in danger in the first place?'

Treville took a breath before answering, 'yes, Sire. Aramis will stay with you for now. A search is already being organised. Please, Sire, I will need you to remain in your chambers for now.'

The King sighed and waved Treville and Aramis away, 'very well. You can guard me from the door.'

Both men bowed and retreated. When they reached the doorway Aramis took up a position to the side of it.

'I'll have you relived in a couple of hours, if we have not caught the man by then. Where are the others?'

'They were all injured in the attack on us, nothing serious, but bad enough to slow them down. It may be another couple of hours before they get here.'

Treville nodded, before saying quietly, 'if he becomes difficult, send word to me and I will send you some help.'

Aramis smiled and nodded, 'let's hope we can catch the man before he has a chance to become difficult.'

MMMM

Four days after the assassin made his way to Paris and there was still no sign of an attempt on the Kings life.

D'Artagnan shifted slightly, as he stood by the door of the King's private study. Usual guard duty involved standing, generally in pairs outside a room. The two would be able to quietly talk which helped to pass the time. But this, on his own, with no one other the King was interminably boring. Treville had quickly realised that the men acting as close security for the King would need to be rotated frequently.

The King was tiring of the increased security and spent much of his time berating whichever unfortunate Musketeer was protecting him at any given time.

When Treville had given out their duties that morning, Porthos had slapped him on the back and wished him good luck. They had all taken, several turns now, but d'Artagnan was getting the brunt of the Kings ire. Aramis had been quite apologetic for telling the King whose uniform had been stolen. The day after the attack, when d'Artagnan was no longer suffering the effects of his near strangulation and had taken a turn at protective guard duty the King had spent a good hour criticising him for allowing himself to be attacked. Treville had offered to relieve him of the duty but d'Artagnan wanted to take his turn.

'I want to walk in the gardens.'

'Sire, you know that is impossible until we have finished searching.'

'It's been weeks now,' said the King grumpily, 'there is no assassin.'

'It's been four days, Sire, and the search is nearly completed. The Captain is considering reducing the number of guards.'

The King threw himself into a chair. He picked up a book, looked at it for a few seconds before tossing it back on the table he had found it.

'If you hadn't allowed someone to steal your uniform, this wouldn't be happening…are you going to be punished?'

D'Artagnan did not quite know how to answer the question. He had felt very guilty about being attacked and having his uniform stolen, but even he knew that there was nothing that he could have done about it.

The King smirked and said to himself, but deliberately loud enough for d'Artagnan to hear, 'I suppose being stuck in here with me is punishment enough.'

D'Artagnan found himself agreeing.

MMMM

A week later and Aramis settled himself by the door of the Kings study. Treville had deemed it long enough for the guard to be stood down the following day. The search had been fruitless. Aramis was glad the close guard duty had lasted as long as it had. Porthos had been quite smug for the first few days when his injury was still causing him problems and he could not complete a turn with the King. Aramis wondered if Treville had added a few extra days guard duty deliberately so that Porthos would be forced to take a turn. The big Musketeer had not looked happy when Aramis had relieved him two hours before.

The door opened, and Aramis instinctively put his hand to his sword. Two servants entered the room carrying trays. They crossed to the table beside the seat the King was sat in. They served him his drink and food before stepping back a few paces waiting to be dismissed.

When the door was pushed open again, with force, Aramis knew it was not right. He pulled his sword and stepped forward to meet the latest arrival. The man wore the uniform of a Musketeer, but Aramis recognised d'Artagnan's pauldron by the scratches on it caused by Porthos during a particularly enthusiastic sparring match a few weeks before.

The man had already levelled a gun towards the King who did not seem to have noticed the danger he was in. Aramis yelled a warning, causing the assassin to turn slightly towards Aramis as he fired the gun. The shot buried itself into the back of a chair a few feet to the left of the King. The two servants ducked down, terrified. The King merely stared in shock at the drama playing itself out in front of him.

The assassin retreated a few yards whilst pulling another gun from his belt. Aramis was closer to the King, and knew he had no choice but to act as a human shield. He rushed forward and grabbed the King firmly, pulling him from his chair, and propelled him towards another door.

'Move,' Aramis said as he turned back to the assassin who was struggling to get a clear shot.

The King was uncoordinated in his movements, but managed to make his way to the door with Aramis keeping a firm hold on his arm, keeping the monarch in front of him.

The assassin fired his second gun.

MMMM


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Porthos yawned. The first day back on full duties had been more tiring than he had expected. The four hours he had spent with the King had drained him. He doubted he would even manage to get to the tavern for a drink before he was looking for his bed. The injury to his side was healed well enough, although he was still feeling a bit stiff.

Athos glanced across the corridor at him, 'keeping you up?'

Porthos shrugged, 'who would 'ave thought that standing in a room with the King would be so tiring. The man droned on about some nonsense the whole time. I couldn't tune 'im out 'cos he's the King but I had no idea what he was going on about most of the time…He's still got it in for you.'

D'Artagnan nodded, 'I know. He's made that perfectly clear each time I've been near him. I'll be glad when we get back to normal guard duty tomorrow.'

'Do you think the assassin ever actually got to Paris?' asked Porthos.

'We may never know. But the searches have been thorough. I do not believe we could have missed the man.'

'Perhaps there wasn't even a fourth man. Perhaps the man you questioned made it up. They might have just taken my uniform and hidden it somewhere.'

'Possible, but I doubt it,' said Athos.

All three men looked around when they heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot from the direction of the King's private study. As one, they began to run towards the sound.

MMMM

The pain in his arm clouded his thoughts for a few seconds. But he continued to push the King ahead of him. The impact of the shot had caused him to twist slightly as they ran, the King had glanced back, his expression one of shock. The King had slowed his run, Aramis pushed him on.

'Keep going,' gasped Aramis.

The King did not need to be told twice. He sped up again, Aramis found he was struggling to keep up. The shock of being shot starting to take its toll. His arm throbbed, he had no idea how bad the wound was, but the enforced activity was not helping. His only wish was that he did not collapse until the King was safe, Aramis was sure he would not manage to walk away from the incident. He knew the injury was not a flesh wound.

The corridor was long and empty. All the doors to the rooms off the corridor were shut, and due to the continued searches, most had been locked. Their only option was to keep going in a straight line.

Aramis had managed to switch his sword to his left hand. He considered stopping and pulling his gun but did not know if the assassin had a third gun of his own to hand. Stopping might cost the King, or himself dearly. He could hear the assassin behind them.

A shout from behind them had the King slow again. Aramis shoved him onwards, the King lost his footing and crashed to the ground.

'Get up, keep moving,' said Aramis as he was forced to drop his sword and use his left hand to pull the King to his feet.

The assassin was closing in on them. Aramis chanced a glance behind, he wished he had not, the man was only a few yards away. He had pulled a sword and was advancing quickly.

MMMM

As they neared the corridor that led to the Kings study they slowed. A second gunshot had sounded a few seconds earlier. The sound of two people running and a shout from Aramis had the three men step around the corner, drawing their swords as they did so.

D'Artagnan watched as the King, closely followed by Aramis ran along the corridor. He knew that they could not take refuge in any of the rooms due to the locked doors. The man following, wearing his stolen uniform was determined. D'Artagnan watched the man discard a gun and continue to pursue his friend and the King. Aramis was holding his sword in his left hand, the expression of pain and the paleness of his friend's complexion told d'Artagnan that at least one of the gunshots had found its mark.

The assassin yelled, causing the King to turn. Aramis tried to push the King to continue along the corridor but only managed to cause the monarch to fall. As Aramis dropped his sword and hauled the fallen man up the three Musketeers began to advance.

MMMM

Aramis had managed to pull the King back up to stand and the two were running towards them again. With a final shove, Aramis pushed the King towards his friends. Porthos grabbed the confused man and dragged him away around the corner.

Athos raised his sword ready to intercept the assassin. He glanced across to d'Artagnan who had grabbed Aramis, stopping him collapsing completely to the floor. Satisfied that the King was in safe hands and that Aramis was out of the way, Athos was able to concentrate on the assassin.

The injuries he had received to his arm were healed well enough that he knew he could take on the assassin. Their swords clashed, the man pushed forward, sliding his sword towards Athos, who twisted to the side. As the man was forced to take a step forwards Athos shoved him bodily backwards. The man stumbled several paces, panting, the recent exertion of the chase leaving him disadvantaged.

The man managed to parry Athos' first swing but had not bargained for the parrying dagger to be brought into play. Athos swung his main gauche around the man's left arm, which he had extended to add balance, the edge of the dagger sliced across the man's arm, causing him to pull the injured limb towards himself protectively. Athos took full advantage of the assassin's distraction, bringing his sword forward and hacking the man's side deeply. A last attempt by the assassin to retaliate was weak, his sword dropping only a second before the man.

Athos stood back, as the man settled, still on the floor in front of him.

MMMM

D'Artagnan had been forced to drag Aramis a few yards away from the fighting men before he could begin to assess his friend's injury. Aramis was heavy in his arms, the man had passed out, as soon as he knew the King was safe.

He turned the still marksman over and lay him down on his back. The blood that socked Aramis' doublet indicated where the injury was. D'Artagnan lifted the injured arm and was relieved to find a second bloody hole in the leather, the ball had gone straight through his friend's arm. But there was a lot of blood. D'Artagnan began to undo the unconscious man's doublet, pushing Aramis up to sit for a few seconds whilst he pulled the injured arm out of the sleeve. Aramis shirt sleeve was stained red with lost blood. D'Artagnan wondered if the marksman had already lost too much. He knew that losing too much blood would prove fatal. After ripping the fabric of the shirt d'Artagnan could see that the wounds were bleeding freely.

'Here, use this,' said Athos handing d'Artagnan his scarf. D'Artagnan looked passed the swordsman at the body behind him.

D'Artagnan wrapped the scarf firmly around Aramis arm before saying, 'we need to get it stitched, he's lost a lot of blood already.'

'I'll find you somewhere to work, and get his medical kit.'

'Here? In the Palace?'

'Yes, I do not think he can wait.'

D'Artagnan watched Athos walk away, slightly stunned. He had expected them to move Aramis back to the garrison, the Palace was no place to tend to their injured comrade. Aramis was showing no signs of regaining consciousness.

Athos returned within a few minutes accompanied by Pierre who was carrying Aramis' medical kit. They carried Aramis between them following Athos back along the corridor. The swordsman produced a key from his pocket and opened one of the doors. They lay their friend on a table in the room, which appeared to d'Artagnan to be a little-used reception room.

'I'll find some water,' said Pierre as he retreated out of the room.

'The King?' asked d'Artagnan.

'With Porthos, he seems to be alright. See to Aramis, I will be back after I have updated Treville.'

Athos disappeared again. D'Artagnan sorted through what he would need and waited for Pierre to return with the water to clean the wounds.

MMMM

'He threw me to the floor, he should be flogged,' said the King as he allowed a servant to brush his clothes down. The King's clothes were not dirty or dusty, the floors of the Palace were immaculate.

'Louis, he was saving your life,' said the Queen impatiently.

Porthos waited for the King to dismiss him, all he really wanted to do was get back to his friend. He had no idea how badly injured Aramis was. He had seen the man collapse after pushing the King forward but Porthos had to prioritise the King over Aramis.

He had walked with the King to the reception room the Queen had been spending her morning in. She had been subjected to increased security as well, but not to the extent of the King. Now that the assassin had been found Porthos had decided the King did not need close protection any longer. But protocol dictated that he wait for the King to allow him to leave.

'If they had not allowed a Musketeer uniform to be taken I would not have been under threat,' said the King, a slight whine creeping into his voice.

The Queen glanced at Porthos, a look of helplessness crossed her face, 'they have explained to you, several times, that they were attacked. Now, you are safe, I am sure the assassin has been dealt with. Come and sit with me.'

She patted the cushion of the chaise longue beside her. He walked across, sullenly, and dropped into the seat beside her.

'You are right, as always my dear Anne.'

Porthos sighed. He wondered how long he would have to wait to be relieved or dismissed.

MMMM

Aramis blinked a few times before he opened his eyes fully. He felt weak, he contemplated closing his eyes again and just going back to sleep, but he felt a presence at his side.

'You lost too much blood, you have to drink, I am sorry Aramis, but you cannot sleep again just yet.'

Athos slipped his hand behind the marksman's head and held a cup of water to his mouth. Aramis managed to drink the water. When he had finished Athos allowed him to lie back down.

The door to the infirmary opened, Aramis managed to look across as d'Artagnan and Porthos entered.

'He's awake,' said d'Artagnan with a smile.

'You have your pauldron back I see,' said Aramis quietly.

Porthos slapped d'Artagnan's shoulder, earning himself a glare. Porthos smiled at him.

'The King still thinks I should be punished, Treville has kept me away from him. I think he is hoping the King will forget this happened.'

Athos looked across, 'the King will find something else to fixate on soon enough,' he said.

'He was not 'appy about the way you treated him…when you saved him,' said Porthos to Aramis as he took a seat by the bed his friend was lying on.

'Sorry I helped him,' said Aramis with a tired smirk.

'I think he has paid more attention to us in the last couple of weeks than he has for… than he ever has,' remarked Athos leaning back in the chair he was sat in.

'A shame it takes something like this, where he thinks we are at fault, to make him notice his own soldiers,' sighed d'Artagnan.

Aramis looked across to Athos and asked, 'where was the assassin hiding? The search we did was thorough.'

'We don't know,' said Porthos before Athos could respond, 'we think he was moving from hiding place to hiding place, managing to keep ahead of the search all the time.'

'He was lucky…you nearly were not,' said Athos.

The door to the infirmary reopened. Treville walked through, signalling for them not to stand for him.

'Good to see you awake, Aramis,' he said with a smile, 'I'm not staying, I just wanted to give you all this. It's from the Queen, she wanted you to know how grateful she was for what you all did. I've already passed some out to the other men who…endured…close protection detail.'

Treville set a basket down on the table beside Aramis' bed. Porthos lifted the ornate cloth that lay over it up.

'Don't eat them all at once,' said Treville as he turned to leave.

'What is it?' asked Aramis as he tried to stifle a yawn, he was feeling quite tired and knew he would probably not be awake long enough to enjoy whatever the Queen had given them.

'Pastries and fancy breads, not the sort of thing we're used to,' said d'Artagnan as he picked up one of the pastries to show Aramis.

'Save one for me,' he said closing his eyes.

'We will,' said Porthos squeezing Aramis shoulder.

As Aramis fell asleep he could hear his brothers quietly talking and knew that even if the King did not notice them, they were valued by others.

The End.


End file.
